Whoever coined that phrase either had never had a baby, or meant something entirely different by it.
At any rate, last night Cooper gave me EIGHT blissful hours of sweet slumber. Kenny and I went to sleep about five minutes after Cooper did, charmingly wrapped in a hug, and we all woke up eight hours and ten minutes later to a gentle billy goat cry. Heaven!
Today it is windy and chilly at the beach, but we still managed a few hours in the sand this morning, and will no doubt return post-nap time for some kite flying. I have been deeded another “lunch break” and have found myself to the same internet cafe, hot coffee in hand and the remnant crumbs of a salad-plate-sized cookie by my side.
Kenny is sleeping off his morning beach frolic and Cooper is hopefully snoozing with Casey while I am away. Or at least contentedly hanging out. He’s a funny little guy. He seems to have four speeds: Sound Asleep (50% of the day), Barely Asleep and Gagging on Spitup (20%), Awake and Mellow (20%) and Awake and Screaming Like a Banshee (10%). But let me tell you, that Banshee time is gut-wrenching enough to make you swear it’s half the day.
He has his two month check-up on Tuesday and I’m hoping that his pediatrician will prescribe something for reflux, which I am certain is what plagues him everytime I try to lay him down after nursing. Nurse him to sleep my foot! I have to keep him upright for at least twenty minutes or he starts vomiting like a college freshman. The problem with that is usually by that time he smells milk and thinks he’s ready to eat again.
Ah. I anyone had told me five years ago that I would one day be writing a blog about spitup, I would have clobbered them. I love being a mommy.